


The Truth, Longed To Be Told

by Lovely_Sunshine_22, PassionatelySmashinEveryExpectation



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Case Fic, Confused Dean Winchester, F/M, Flashbacks, Guilty Dean Winchester, Homeless Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Implied Bottom Castiel, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Memories, Naomi (Supernatural) Being an Asshole, Past Torture, Psychological Torture, Sad Castiel, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Secrets, Self-loathing!Cas, Torture, Untold Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-07 00:25:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14068893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovely_Sunshine_22/pseuds/Lovely_Sunshine_22, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PassionatelySmashinEveryExpectation/pseuds/PassionatelySmashinEveryExpectation
Summary: The Winchesters are hunting something they know nothing about, so they pray to Castiel to come and help. Little did they know that the angel's presence would start a chain of events that almost lead to their friend's demise.I suck at summaries; Don't judge me. You'll get what I'm trying to convey when you've read it. But I tried.





	1. Secrets?

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a beta of any form, so excuse any grammar and/or spelling mistakes.
> 
> Edit: Hey, I'm the beta! There weren't many mistakes in this fic, I'm just touching this up :)   
> -PSEE

Dean looked up from his laptop when he heard Sam shuffle into the library. Sam was wearing his pyjamas, and his long princess-hair an unruly mess.

 

“Morning Samantha, bad hair day?” Dean commented on his brother’s locks. Sam gave him bitchface number eighteen, before combing his hand through his bed-head. Dean didn’t know how- and he’ll probably never know- but suddenly his hair looked perfectly groomed. 

 

Sam fell into the chair next to Dean. “So, what’d ya’ find? Anything interesting?” Sam asked his brother, leaning over to see what he was looking at. Thankfully it wasn’t porn; it was a newsletter.

 

"Uh, yeah. I think it could be something.” Dean sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “So, we've got three bodies up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Most of the bodies look like they were heavily tortured before death. This is hardcore; skin shredded off, ribs broken, kneecaps shattered," Dean looked up at Sam, who had a look of disgust on his face. 

 

“Dean, I don’t know. I mean it’s horrible, but is it really our thing?”

 

“Oh, I’m not done. People have claimed to have seen the victim being tortured and killed. Good friends of the victims- one survivor for each victim- described the suspect as a 5’9 female dressed in a long white robe. Now a survivor said that she had been captured alone, but when she regained consciousness, she was chained and her friend was floating in front of her.

 

She'd said that the woman in the white robe had talked to her- the topic wasn’t stated in the article- and then started peeling the victim’s skin off," Dean finished looking up at his brother expectantly.

 

“I mean, it could be. But a woman in a white robe? Maybe it’s the trauma, people come up with some weird shit when they’re scared.” Sam argued.

“Come on, Sammy! We’ve gone on less, way less. There hasn’t been anything pointing to a case in months. If I don’t get out soon, I’ll go all ‘Crazy Jack’ on you, cabin fever style!" 

 

“Okay, I guess. We’ll check it out. Meet me back here in ten." 

  
  


~~~

  
  


When Dean came to, he was cuffed in a worryingly familiar position- In a chair, his hands and feet tied to it. However, he wasn’t gagged for once. 

 

_ 'Cas, where are you, man...' _

 

He looked around in the dim space. He could barely see a few feet in front of him, it was too dark He spotted Sam to his left, cuffed like him and still unconscious.  _ "Sam," _ Dean whispered harshly. There was no response. 

Dean pulled on the cuffs keeping him strapped to the chair, but to no avail. He was stuck. How was he going to get out of this one?

 

Sam made his presence known, with a soft groan. Dean’s head shot around to look at his brother.

 

“Hey dude, you okay?” Dean's voice was gruff, but filled with concern. Sam coughed before answering.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

 

There was a few minutes of silence as the brothers tried to come up with some sort of escape plan. The silence was ruptured as someone spoke. 

 

“Oh, you’re awake! Hello,” A soft voice said enthusiastically. A woman wearing an off-white robe suddenly appeared out of the darkness, just like the victims had described.

 

“Who the hell are you?” Anger was prominent in Dean's voice.

 

“You should know that. You were supposed to be the ones hunting  _ me,  _ correct?” she questioned coyly, a smirk playing on her lips. 

 

The brothers were silent, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of banter. 

“Why are you kidnapping two people, but then only killing one of them?” Sam inquired, “Seems a bit risky leaving the victim to tell the tale. It makes our job much easier.”

A flicker of emotion showed on her face, but it soon turned to rage. She clenched her jaw, debating on what to say. In the end she broke.

 

“I wanted them to notice what they’d missed! I wanted them to realize what they have, and then I want to see their faces as I take it all away! I want to show them how much they’d cared, how much they’d given for them. Make them mourn what they always took for granted, and then live with the pain of losing those people!” She bellowed, her chest heaving, and her fists clenched. She sounded like she was talking from experience. 

 

Realisation dawned on Sam. “You’re Anteros, the avenger of unrequited love. You’re supposed to put the victims of it out of their misery, not torture and kill them,” he exclaimed. Dean looked over at his brother, an unreadable expression on his face.

 

“Oh, so you do know who I am? that means you realise why you’re here, right?” 

 

Sam’s face was the picture of confusion. Dean didn’t react the same way. “Goddamn it, Sammy! Are you pining for somebody!?” 

 

Sam was about to answer, when the goddess laughed. Both brothers looked at her as she spoke.

 

“Oh Dean,” she began, trying to calm her laughter, “Who said anything about Sam?” The inquiry was spoken like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She clapped her hands together, smiling.

 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dean said, a bit thrown by the accusation. 

 

“Sweetie, Sam is just here to watch. You’re the real star!”

 

“I’m not in love with anybody?" He would know if he was in love with somebody to the point that a goddess could sense it! _Right?_

 

The goddess smiled brightly. “Oh, this always my favourite part! You’re not lusting for anybody, someone is dreaming about you,” she extolled. Dean was lost for words, who could possibly want him? The fucked up alcoholic; it pure luck that they had saved the world.

 

Dean turned to look at his brother. Sam had been gagged, but it looked like he was trying to say something. His eyes were wide, looking at Dean as if he could read his mind if he stared hard enough.

 

Dean heard Anteros snap her fingers. He turned to face her again, and caught a glimpse of a human form. Before he could see who it was, she stepped in the way, leaning forward slightly. 

 

“Shhh, hey, sweetie... wake up."

 

Dean’s heart stopped when he heard a groan. No, it couldn’t be!

 

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice echoed in the big empty space. He hung in mid-air. Invisible ropes wer tied, keeping his arms and legs spread and leaving him vulnerable. 

 

Dean’s brain was racing at a million miles per hour, trying to make sense of all this information. However, he didn’t take too long.

 

“He, he can't... Why would he?” Dean was at a loss for words. 

 

“You see now why this is my favourite part?” She said giddily, beaming with glee. 

 

Dean’s grass green eyes met with Cas’ striking cerulean. He could see the fear and uncertainty in them. 

 

“Dean, are you okay?” Cas' voice was strained and distressed. Of course the angel would worry about Dean before himself, self sacrificing idiot.

 

“Yeah, Cas, I’m fine.” Dean shook his head dismissively. 

 

“Aw, how sweet. Too bad I’m going to have to ruin this moment.” Anteros walked up to Cas, placing two fingers on his forehead. Dean laughed triumphantly, she obviously didn’t know Castiel was an angel. But the thought didn’t comfort him long, when Cas started screaming in agony. 

 

“What- what are you doing to him?!” Dean cried out, panicked. “How are you hurting him!? What are you doing?!” Castiel’s cries became louder.

 

Dean kept shouting at her to stop, until deafening silence loomed over them. The only sound that could be heard was Castiel's heaving breath. 

 

“What were you doing to me?” The angel choked out between panting breaths. 

 

“Just checking up on your memories, to see which ones I should show your precious little hunter. I want to show him all you’ve done for him,” The dark-haired woman cooed. It soon turned into a sinister smile. 

 

Castiel’s half-lidded eyes widened. “No, no. Don’t do that! Please.” The angel pleaded weakly, worry etched on his face.  The goddess walked over to Casteel; she placed her hand under his chin, lifting it up to look him in the eye.

 

“Shhh, little angel..." She paused. "Oh! I’m sorry, you’re not an angel anymore, are you?" She spoke with faux sadness in her tone. Castiel ripped his chin out of her grasp. 

 

“You know nothing about me,” he growled, making the deity laugh.

 

“Sweetie, I’ve tiptoed through your brain; every bump, every crevice, I have seen it all. I know everything about you," she said, her demeanor changing. 

 

Castiel didn’t answer, not wanting to agitate her. He didn’t want know what she’d found, what she knew. He stayed silent. 

 

“The silent treatment, huh?” She turned away from the ex-angel, making her way over to Dean. “So, ready to know what I know?” she asked, not really waiting for an answer. She snapped her fingers, and all three men were knocked out. 

 

“Let the show begin!” 

 


	2. Haunting Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat's out of the bag, and Castiel's history floods out with it.

Dean realised this was a memory immediately; the white, floaty feeling was reminiscent of a dream. 

 

_ Castiel stood in a completely white office. He looked around, slightly confused. His expression changed to anger as he realised where he was. _

 

_ “What do you wanot," he snarled at the blond woman sitting at the desk. She wore a gray suit, and had her hair up in a tight bun. Dean recognised her as Naomi. _

__

 

_ “Well, as you know, the Winchesters are after the angel tablet. As are we.” She stood up and walked around the desk. _

 

_ “If that tablet gets into the wrong hands, it could be the end of heaven as we know it. Since you, Castiel,” she said bitterness in her tone, "are so close to them, we’ve decided to use this advantage against them.” Naomi crossed her arms, and leaned against her desk. _

  
  
  
  


The next flashback is not placed in what Dean assumed was heaven, but in a big warehouse.

 

_ “Castiel,” Naomi’s voice echoed. “Take twenty-five.”  _

 

_ Castiel walked into the warehouse, a blade in hand. On the other side of the room stands Dean. Castiel walks over to him, clenching his fist around the blade. _

 

_ “Hey Cas,” Dean says enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around Cas in a warm embrace. _

_ The blade clatters to the ground, and Naomi knows that Castiel won't break as easily as she thought.  _

 

_ ~~~ _

__

_ “Castiel, take 107,”  _

 

_ Castiel walks up to Dean, blade at the ready. But Dean comes up to him; the kiss is unexpected, as well as rough and possessive. _

 

_ They find Castiel two and a half- hours later, hiding in a corner of the warehouse, rocking back and forth; he muttered quantum physics laws under his breath. _

 

_ ~~~ _

 

_ “Castiel, take 332.” _

 

_ This Dean kisses him again, but the kiss is sweeter; it is soft, loving. Castiel parts his lips invitingly; realizing his wrongdoing, he pulls back, looking at Dean in shock. _

_ He quickly recovers, biting his lip; he cuts the decoy down, hissing out “Not my Dean!” _

 

_ Naomi smiles, and counts it as a small victory. _

 

_ ~~~ _

 

_ “Castiel, take 415.”  _

_ The look-alike calls him ‘brother.' Castiel stabs him quickly in the heart with a sob, and cries over the corpse for forty minutes. _

 

_ It was extremely difficult to remove the decoy from him. _

 

_ ~~~ _

  
  


_ “Castiel, 652.” The voice was getting bored... _

 

_ Dean lets Castiel sink the blade into his stomach with a sadistic smile, stepping even farther onto the blade; he whispered in his ear, “You always were a weapon.” _

 

_ Naomi called in the other angels, and it takes four of them to keep Castiel from sinking the blade into his own heart.  _

  
  


_ ~~~ _

  
  


_ “Take 983,”  _

 

_ Castiel stabs him in the side, Dean staring at him with cold green eyes; Dean whispers, “I wish you’d left me in hell.” This breaks Castiel, and he stabs Dean again just to make sure he was dead. Naomi is sure that they’re just mercy killings from now on. _

  
  


_ ~~~ _

 

_ Decoy number 989 is cut down viciously, making a mess of blood and internal organs on the floor. _

 

_ Decoy number 991 cries out in pain, but Castiel doesn’t even blink.  _

 

_ Number 994 doesn’t even see him approach. _

 

_ Number 998 begs him to stop, but Castiel moves quickly and efficiently. _

 

_ 1003 is dead even before he hits the ground. _

 

_ Number 1009 falls to the ground, and Castiel standing emotionless next to the corpse. His eyes are dead, and all will power gone; Naomi appears, clapping.  _

 

_ Castiel is the deadliest weapon in heaven’s arsenal, once again. _

  
  
  


Dean had never felt so sick in his life. Why the hell didn’t Castiel tell him about this? 

 

He felt like the worst friend ever. He had couldn't believe he had been mad at the guy for not trusting him after the incident in the tomb. Of course he didn’t trust him! He couldn't even trust himself! He couldn’t trust anybody! 

 

~~~

  
  


_ Castiel wandered the empty streets of the city. The night was cold, and Castiel was hungry. His stomach growled at him, begging him for sustenance.  _

 

_ “I need to get to Dean,” the fallen angel muttered under his breath. He wrapped his trench coat tighter around is body, desperate to keep warm. _

 

_ He kept walking until he found a tipped dumpster; it looked like good enough shelter for the night. He needed some sleep.  _

 

_ He was so tired, he didn't even notice that he'd cried himself to sleep. _

  
  
  


_ The next morning he was rudely awakened by the bustling traffic. Cars were driving past, honking at each other for an unknown reason. He sat up, groaning; his back protesting his choice of shelter.  _

 

_ He arched his back, listening to all the little cracks as the joints popped. He yawned, standing up looking around the dirty back alley, to see if there was anything he could eat.  _

 

_ He found a half eaten sandwich and a rotten apple core, but besides that, nothing much. He ate the sandwich before starting his long walk to the bunker.  _

  
  


_ ~~~ _

  
  


_ The next flashback Dean sees is on a dark night. It was cold in this part of the city, that part where disturbing people try and sell you unknown chemicals and  where whores grope anyone that passes by.  _

 

_ A loud moan comes from an alleyway, followed by a groan and a disquieting laugh. Dean can hear someone buckle their pants, and then the rustle of money being pulled out of a wallet; soon heavy footsteps approached Dean. _

 

_ A disgusting looking man steps out of the alley, an overconfident smirk on his face. A few minutes later he sees Castiel stumble from the darkness, each step looking more painful than the last. _

 

_ He was grasping the twenty dollar bill as if it was his only life line. Dean watched as he stumbled down the road and into another alley, where he walks to the tipped dumpster Dean had seen in the other flashback. Now it had more stuff inside; Castiel had acquired another set of clothing and a small wallet.  _

 

_ Castiel sits down inside the bin with a groan of discomfort. He picked up his small wallet, opening it and pulling a few other bills out.  _

 

_ "Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, twenty.” Castiel counts. He keeps counting for a few more minutes before his breath hitched, “I- I have enough.” He smiles sadly. “I’m coming Dean.” _

  
  


_ ~~~ _

 

_ Castiel stands in line at a bus station. There are two people in front of him. The lady at the front had one child; he looked like he was more interested in running to the toys on the wall than waiting in line for their tickets.  _

 

_ The queue finally came to Castiel, and he stepped up to the woman selling the tickets. "Lebanon, Kansas please," He asked shyly. The woman looked down at him. _

 

_ "Lebanon. Yes, That'll be $1070."  _

 

_ Castiel gaped at her. This was going to be much harder than anticipated. He cleared his throat.  _

 

_ “Uhm, how close can I get to Lebanon, Kansas for...” He opens his wallet, picking out the dollar bills he had collected over the month and a half, “Two-hundred and five?” He asked hopefully.  _

 

_ “Uh,” The lady said, obviously bored of her job, “You could probably get a little past Woody Creek in Colorado,” she said after typing something in the computer in front of her.  _

 

_ “Okay then, one ticket to there.” Castiel sighed in defeat. It wasn't Kansas, but he would get there eventually.  _

  
  


_ ~~~ _

  
  


_ Castiel sat outside in the rain. After his trip to Woody Creek, he didn’t have any money anymore, or his dumpster.  He had decided to walk to the nearest city. It took him two days; two days with no food and no sleep. He had gotten water in a few places which kept him going. He needed to get to Dean.  _

 

_ Finally, he had made it to a city named Lakewood, outside of Denver. He sat outside, trying to decide what to do next.  _

 

_ Suddenly, a young woman walked up to him. “Hey. You, uh, you look cold.” She looked awkward. Castiel tilted his head in confusion. She rubbed her arms shakily, she looked cold. _

 

_ “Uh, do- do you want to come in? It’s just- I feel kind of bad for leaving you out here in the rain.” She confessed, reaching her arm out towards Cas. Hesitantly, Castiel took her hand and pulled himself off of the ground. _

  
  


_ ~~~ _

 

_ Inside, the woman- who he had now identified as April- gave him a towel and let him dry himself off. After he’d finished using the towel, he handed it to her and thanked her. _

 

_ She gave him a blanket and some warmed up milk. Castiel had never had a warm meal, even if it was just milk. It was nice.  _

 

_ ‘Maybe I could ask Dean to make me some when I get to the bunker,’ Dean could hear his thoughts. He hated to admit how horrible he felt after hearing that single thought. _

 

_ Castiel finished his milk, placing the empty mug on the table. April sat down, uncomfortably close to him. He turned his head to look at the blond woman, uncertainty in his eyes. That’s when it hit him.  _

 

_ ‘Humans need payment for all their actions.’ he thought, disappointed. He had hoped that she had just been a kind woman. But no, she needed payment just like the other men Castiel had catered to.  _

 

_ So, Castiel didn’t stop her when she leaned closer and kissed him. He didn’t stop her as she slowly peeled his clothes off. He didn’t stop her when she pulled him into her bedroom.  _

  
  


_ ~~~ _

  
  


Dean couldn’t believe what he just witnessed. Castiel had sold himself to get to Dean. He had done it for months, just to get to him, and then Dean kicked him out. Just like that. Dean hadn’t even bothered to call him after he kicked him to the curb. Castiel didn’t even try to protest, he just did as Dean had asked him. No question, no objection. 

Like he always does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so unused to doing chapters that I don't know when the most appropriate part to end it is. But, again, I tried.


	3. Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the memories stop, Castiel expects the pain to cease with it. Oh, how wrong he was.

 

Dean wanted these memories to stop. He wanted all of this to stop. He wanted to kill this bitch, grab Sam and Cas, and get the fuck out of dodge. He wanted to drive back to the bunker, where he could give Cas the care he deserved; he should have done that in lthe first place. 

 

Apparently, Anteros wasn’t having it.

  
  


_ Castiel hung from the ceiling, shackles keeping him upright. His face was bloody, and he had a bruise on the side of his head from earlier, when the angels had found him. _

 

_ He whimpered as he heard the metal doors open and shut with a loud bang. Two angels walked into the small room where he was chained.  _

 

_ “Oh, the little whore is still here,” one of the angels taunted.  _

 

_ “Fuck you,” Castiel spat.  _

 

_ “Language, Castiel.” The other smiled. “But, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” The angel leaned in close to Castiel. He grabbed Castiel’s chin, forcing him to look up.   _

 

_ The fallen angel spat in his face, not saying a word. The angel wiped the spit off his face.  _

 

_ “Oh, Cassie. You’re going to regret that,” he warned, walking over to the tray of instruments from earlier that day. _

 

_ They started cutting into him, slicing his chest and breaking his bones. All this physical pain was such a new concept to Castiel; he cried out in pain, tears streaming down his face. _

 

_ “Where’s your little Winchester now, huh?”  _

 

_ Castiel cried; after a while, it wasn’t because of the pain the angels were inflicting upon him, but the knowledge that Dean didn’t actually care about him. Dean didn't really want him. The only reason he’d kept him around was because he was useful to him; as an injured human, he most definitely wasn’t. _

 

_ ‘At least they won’t get to Dean. Dean is safe.’  _

  
  


_ ~~~ _

  
  


_ This memory was from another time, a long time after the previous scene.  _

 

_ Castiel stumbled down a deserted road, clutching his chest. It glowed with Grace; the wrong Grace, stolen Grace. It was burning from the inside out, but Castiel didn’t care. He needed to keep moving.  _

 

_ The prayer he had gotten earlier from Dean was echoing in his head.  _

 

_ ‘Cas, Sammy and I are hunting something, and we don’t know what it is. So, if you could pop in, maybe share some of your forever expanding knowledge and help us out, that would be great. We’re a little stuck.’  _

 

_ Castiel had stolen a car and gotten pretty close to where he could sense Sam and Dean, then the car broke down. He had only been about a few miles away from the town, and didn’t think it would be too far to walk. He was wrong. _

 

_ He knew this stolen grace wouldn’t last long, but he hadn’t expected it to start killing him so soon; he thought he would have had at least a few months. He wanted to try and get to the Winchesters with his Grace intact, he wanted to be of use to them. Now, he wasn’t so sure he was going to get there at all.  _

 

_ He had two options. He could either keep going  _ with _ the Grace and hope he made it to the Winchesters in time to help them, or he could extract the Grace and get to the Winchesters as a human. _

 

_ Both of those options were risky. On one hand, if he kept the Grace, he could die on the way. On the other hand, the Winchesters might not want his help if he wasn’t an angel- even if an awful one at that.  _

 

_ He walked another two miles before even more severe pain flared in his chest. He yelped as he fell to his knees. His mind was telling him to get rid of it and do it fast; he wasn’t going to make it much further.  _

 

_ He pulled out his angel blade, weighing it in his hands. He almost cut his cheek as he coughed up blood onto the pavement beneath him. _

 

_ He took a deep breath before quickly slicing his throat, forcing the Grace out; he kept the tiniest fragment to heal the wound. Tears fell as he watched the stolen Grace seep into the ground.  _

 

_ “Stand up," he told himself, his voice gruff.  _

 

_ “Do it; if not for yourself, do it for Dean.”  _

 

_ He closed his eyes, picking up the blade, and slowly stood up. He put away his blade and started walking.  _

  
  


_ ~~~ _

  
  


Dean gasped as the memories stopped. The goddess stood in front of him. 

 

“So,”Sshe began, excitement laced in her voice. “What do you think?” 

 

Dean couldn’t think... Castiel had always sacrificed everything for him, and now he was going to suffer more because of him.

 

“I was going to choose this one pair of humans, one who had let their sister marry the other, sacrificing their own happiness for their sister’s. That would have been fun. Then this little angel walked into town. Oh! The pining and devotion coming from this man would be enough to keep me fed for the next thirty years.” She stroked Cas’ jaw. 

 

Dean could now see how defeated Castiel looked. His shoulders were slumped, his jaw clenched and his eyes wet. 

 

“Awww, sweetie... don’t cry. We’re not done yet,” she simpered, combing Cas’ hair out of his face. 

 

He looked up at her, his brows arched, “More?” The goddess nodded.

 

She stepped away, and reached her hand out; a massive blade formed in her hand. Sam and Dean shot each other worried looks as they saw the sword-like object. 

 

She pointed the blade at Castiel’s chest and starting dragging it down. Castiel bit his tongue, trying to keep down the cry forcing its way out of his throat. She twisted the blade, dragging it back up; it made a long cut next to the first. The deity reached forward; she dug her fingers into the cuts and pulled. Castiel couldn’t keep down the scream of anguish when his chest was ripped to shreds. 

 

Dean was shouting at the goddess to stop; he was swearing at her, cursing her and threatening, but she didn’t stop. She kept slicing, cutting into Castiel. Sometimes she’d stop, punching the ex-angel a few times in the face. Dean could hear the bones crunching under her fist. 

 

Dean was so preoccupied by Castiel and Anteros that he didn’t see Sam, who picked the cuffs with a bobby-pin he’d used to keep the cuffs of his shirt together. He’d never been so thankful for a wardrobe-malfunction in his life. 

Sam knew Dean must blame himself for all of this, and, to be honest, probably wouldn’t be much help in this situation.

 

Sam had seen all that Dean had, and he felt awful. He couldn’t imagine how Dean was feeling. He thought about how Dean and Cas’ relationship would change after this, if they survived. 

 

Sam’s cuff came loose, and he quickly unlocked the cuff on his other hand. He ripped the tape keeping his feet tied to the chair, swift but silent. 

 

He stood up from the chair, and looked around the roem; he tried to catch a glimpse of any of the gear they had brought. Finally, Sam caught a glimpse of Dean’s duffle where she had stashed it behind a crate. 

 

_ 'Perfect! I love it when the bad guys screw up.'  _

 

He silently crept over to the bag, rummaging through it looking for the Colt. They had found it recently; now they brought it on every case, for emergencies. Sam could hear Cas’ agonized screams echoing through the warehouse, and the cries made him look faster. He found the gun and checked the chamber; it contained three bullets. 

 

~~~

 

Castiel hadn’t been in this kind of pain since the angels had captured him. He felt every cut, every time the goddess flayed his skin, and every beating. He longed for the numbness he'd feel when the pain overwhelmed himl. He'd learned that, for humans, their bodies go numb at high levels of pain. He just had to wait; wait for the pain to stop. 

 

Even though Castiel was being hurt so badly, the only thing he really felt was the shame and sadness that Dean knew; he knew the horrible things he'd done. He saw all the times Castiel had killed him; he saw Castiel in his lowest moments, when he had to sell his body to be able to eat. He saw him as the other angel’s did; a failure.

 

The ex-angel could hear muffled yelling. It sounded a lot like Dean, except the voice was begging. That couldn’t be Dean. He couldn’t care, he’d made that very clear when he sent Castiel away; now that he knew Castiel as the others did, Castiel would be surprised if they didn't leave him here with the goddess. 

 

Suddenly, a loud bang ripped through the air. The cutting stopped, and Castiel collapsed to the ground with an ear-splitting scream. His broken bones moved out of place, and his open wounds oozed with blood. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, no beta. Just me.. 
> 
> That sounds sad, I just mean I read through it, and, uh, spell-check stuff...  
> I should probably just stop writing everything I'm thinking. This always happens I just start and I don't stop- It's become a serious issue. Anyway, Thanks for reading!
> 
> EDIT: Chapter has been edited :) -PSEE


	4. The Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is almost as broken as Castiel's bloody form in his hands. Will his angel be okay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is a short chapter but, whatever. I don't really know.

 

As soon as Sam opened the cuffs keeping him tied to the chair, Dean raced over to the broken form that lay in the middle of the room. He skidded onto his knees, not caring if he’d torn them. He looked down at the ex-angel... He didn’t dare touch him, it would probably hurt hem; he had already hurt Cas enough.   

 

A small mewling sound came from Cas’ throat as Dean hoisted the angel from the ground and into his lap.

 

“Cas, Cas. Hey," he murmured, stroking damp hair away from Cas' bloodied face. Castiel opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Dean, whimpering at the slow movement. 

 

“No, shhh. Don’t.” Dean pulled Cas close to his chest, desperately wanting to comfort his angel. When he did that, he felt Castiel’s body shake; he was crying.

 

Dean looked down at him in shock. Castiel crying was not a thing Dean had gotten used to seeing; he would never get used to it. The first time Dean had seen the angel cry was mere minutes ago, over his corpse in the one of the horrid memories.

 

“Hey Cas,” he said softly to get his attention. Castiel looked up at him, his blue eyes rimmed with red, and the skin around them swollen from the deity's attacks. There were tears streaming down his face, leaving track marks in their wake from where they wiped away the dark, drying blood.

 

“Why...why are you crying?" Dean knew it was a stupid question; why wouldn’t he be? He had just been reminded of all the pain Dean had put him through without even knowing, though that wasn’t the reason he was crying.

 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas choked, blood pouring out alongside his words, “I’m so sorry,” he finished before his eyes rolled back and his body went slack. 

 

_ 'No. No, no, no.' Dean panicked. He pulled Cas away from his chest, and shook him slightly. _

__

 

“No, no, no, no. Don’t do this to me! Not now, not now," Dean was shouting frantically, but it quickly trailed off into a small whine. He was so focused on Castiel that he didn’t hear the Impala’s engine; Sam had rammed her through the thin plaster wall, parking right behind Dean and Cas.

 

He jumped out of the car, and ran over to Cas and his brother. 

 

“Dean, hurry! Get him into the Impala! We need to get him to a hospital,” he ordered. Dean looked up at him, stunned and in shock. “Now!” he roared. 

 

Dean snapped back into reality and stood up, Castiel’s limp body in his arms. He ran over to Baby and laid Cas across the seat. He lifted the angel’s upper body, sliding under him and onto the seat.

 

Soon enough, they were speeding down the highway towards the nearest hospital. Dean checked Castiel’s pulse- albeit reluctantly- and he almost cried out in relief when he felt a faint heartbeat against his fingers.

 

“He's still here, Sammy,” he told his brother, who was driving way past the speed limit. They needed to get him to the hospital. Just because he still had a pulse didn't mean he was okay; Cas was far from it.

 

When they finally reached the ER, Dean kicked the door of the Impala open and ran through the hospital doors, Castiel in his arms.

 

“Please, we need help!" The bellow quickly got the nurses’ attention. There was a moment of shock, as they saw Cas’ broken form; they immediately got to work.

 

They took Castiel from Dean’s arms and placed him on a gurney, wheeling him away. Dean raced after them.

 

“What happened?” Dean could hardly speak, not even to answer the nurse; the only thing he could think of was his angel laying on the gurney. He looked so small and frail, nothing like he did when Dean first met him. He wasn't even an angel anymore. 

 

“Cas…” he breathed, looking longingly at Castiel.

“Cas? Is that his name?" Dean could do nothing but nod dumbly. 

 

“Okay, we’re gonna do everything in our power to help him. Sir, are you listening?” Dean looked up at him and nodded, his eyes flicking back and forth between Cas and the nurse.

 

They had just reached a pair of doors when Dean was stopped. “Sir, you cannot go in there,” someone told him. Dean furrowed his brows, scarcely noticing the woman pulling him away from the doors. 

 

“No, he’s- he’s my friend. Please, let me through!” The nurse kept tugging at him; Dean’s vision went red with anger. “He’s my friend!" Dean battled to get through the doors keeping him and Cas separated. 

 

“I realize this, but you still can’t go in there, it’s-”The desperately uttered words were cut off as Dean started throwing punches. He was furious; who were they to tell him he couldn’t follow Cas through the doors?

 

The next thing he knew, a needle was being jabbed into his neck. His vision spun as the serum coursed through his body; Dean stumbled over to the wall, trying to regain his balance. The small attempt failed and he fell backwards, head first onto the floor, knocking him out.

  
  
  


~~~

  
  


When Dean came to, he was lying in an uncomfortable black sofa. His head was propped up on the armrest, and his legs were hanging off the other end. He groaned as he sat up; he felt his neck where they’d jabbed him. He hissed, as his fingers touched his still sore skin. 

 

“Hey man,” Dean looked up to see a very tired-looking Sam sitting on an equally small sofa... Everything came rushing back to him.

 

“Where’s Cas!?” He shot up from his seat, but soon regretted it as his head spun. 

 

0

“Woah, calm down Dean,” Sam said, standing up, ready to catch Dean if he fell. Dean tried to take a step, but immediately fell back onto the sofa. There was a pregnant pause as Dean blinked, his brain still a little foggy.

 

“They said they’d do their best to try and help him, but you saw how fucked up he was.” Sam was really going for the whole ‘harsh truth’ thing.

 

“He’s gonna make it, Sam,” Dean stated angrily. “He has to make it.” he continued, but his façade was collapsing. There were a few minutes of silence. “How long has it been?” 

 

Sam looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “What?”

Dean looked up from where he was staring at his shaking hands; they were still covered in his angel’s dried blood. "How long have I been out? How long have they been working on Cas?” Dean's voice wavered. 

 

Sam looked at him remorsefully and sighed. “Eleven and a half hours."

 

Dean looked at him as if he’d sprouted three heads, “What the fuck do you mean ELEVEN AND A HALF HOURS?!” Fury emanated from Dean's being. He stood up, not really know what he was gonna do; he needed to do something. 

 

Sam stood up and grabbed Dean by the shoulder. “Dean,” he attempted, but Dean wasn’t having it. 

 

“No, Sam, don’t even try that with me. Cas has been in surgery for eleven fucking hours! Do you think I’m just gonna sit here until they come out and tell us that he didn’t make it?!” His chest was heaving and he could feel a telltale burn behind his eyes. Sam gripped Dean’s shoulder tighter, looking him in the eye.

 

“Dean, I understand that you’re scared- Hell, I’m just as terrified as you about this. But Cas is a tough guy, he’s gonna make it.” There was an uneasy sturdiness to Sam's voice. Dean realized that Cas wasn’t only his friend, he was Sam’s friend too. 

 

“I- I’m sorry, Sam,” he began, sitting down in the small seat next to the sofa Sam had been sitting in. “I, he was- is- your friend too. I’m just...” He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, “This is all my fault.” He saw Sam about to protest, but quickly cut him off. “If I had done something differently, fuck, a hundred somethings differently, Cas wouldn’t be dying right now. He wouldn’t have had to do all those things to get to me, only for me to abandon him. Sammy, he’s done everything for us. We just take it for granted. Shit, dude, he thought- he thinks that we only want to have him around when he's useful to us. How could we have messed up this badly? He is our friend, not a tool or a weapon to be wielded and used. Oh my God, Sam. He can’t die thinking that we don’t care about him. He can’t, I-” realisation dawned on Dean. 

 

“Sam, I think I- I think I’m in-” He was tripping over his words, but Sam knew exactly what he was trying to say. 

 

“I know,” he said simply. “Dean, I’ve always known. I was just hoping you’d figure it out on your own.” Sam pursed his lips. “I just wish you’d realised it sooner.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey waddup, guess who got a beta! Me! Finally. Now I don't have to worry too bad about it!
> 
> Again, hope you enjoyed.
> 
> EDIT: Chapter edited... Hope everybody's enjoying the fic, I like the plot. Poor Cas!) -PSEE


	5. Careful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The doctor has come out from Castiel's surgery. What's the news, doc?

The brothers waited two more hours, lost in their thoughts, until the head surgeon walked into the waiting room. They both stood up as she approached. 

 

“So,” she began; Dean couldn’t quite pinpoint what emotions she was wearing, and it terrified him. 

 

“Thank your patience, I know you’ve been waiting for a while now." She took a deep breath. 

 

Dean’s heart was pounding. He couldn’t lose Cas; he was his best friend... maybe even more than that. He felt his palms start to sweat and his chest tightend, the knot in his stomach becoming more apparent. Could she take any goddamn longer? Just spit it out! Was one of the most important people in Dean’s life dead? 

 

The doctor looked at them, the corners of her mouth turned slightly upward. “He is stable for now,” she announced. Dean nearly collapsed from relief; Cas was gonna be okay. 

 

“His recovery will take quite a while, however-”

 

“I don’t care, he could take all the time in the world; just as long as he’s alive.” Dean could barely choke the words out. He ran a hand through his hair, and the surgeon smiled brightly.

 

“As I was saying, there was a lot to piece back together. His cheekbone was broken and his eye socket fractured. His left arm is broken; his left lung was also punctured, and had collapsed. A lot of the skin on his chest and abdomen had been flayed away in strips. We used skin grafts to close the wounds- and there will most definitely be scars. Sorry, there is nothing we can do about that.” 

 

She kept talking, filling them in on Castiel’s condition. Dean was half-listening, half-not; he just wanted to see Cas, see the evidence of his supposed recovery. As soon as she finished the last syllable of the sentence she was saying, Dean asked, “Please, can we go see him?” He had a desperate look on his face. 

 

“That depends. Are you family?” Sam froze, trying to decide what lie they were going to use. Dean, on the other hand, didn’t even hesitate. “He’s my husband. Please, I need to see him.” Sam was shocked; did Dean really just say that? Sam thought he was still getting over the fact that he’s in love with Cas.

 

She gave him an apologetic look and nods. “Yes of course, Mr...?” 

 

“Winchester, Dean Winchester." He rushed towards the door, and the surgeon hurried to open it, “Thank you, Doctor... Doctor, what?” 

 

She smiled up at him, “I’m Doctor Rosa Calimire,” she replied as Dean stepped through the door, Sam not far behind. Dean stopped when he realised he didn’t know where Castiel was. He turned back around to ask Dr. Calimire where he was; she responded that he was in the ICU, but he’d gotten his own room. She lead them to the ex-angel’s room. 

 

Just as Dean was about to open the door, he hesitated. His hand hovered over the handle. Was he ready to see what state Castiel was in? He’d seen some of the damage in the car on the way, but it had been the middle of the night, and extremely dark. 

 

He took a deep breath and opened the door. When he stepped inside, he saw Castiel lying on the bed in the middle of the room. There were all kinds of tubes and wires, and he spared a moment to wonder what they were for. However, he didn’t really care, as long as they helped his friend. Castiel looked so small and frail as he laid under the pristine white sheets. His face was swollen in ways Dean never wanted to see again; he had bruises all around his eyes, cheeks, forehead, you name it. He could see a cast around his arm, and stitches peaking out from the bandages around his chest.

 

Dean walked mechanically around to the trademark uncomfortable chair. He stared at Cas; he wasn’t sure if he could touch him. He looked over at his brother helplessly. Sam just stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at his broken friend. 

 

They sat in silence for an hour, before Sam decided they probably should eat. Dean refused to leave the angel, he couldn't; not this time. 

 

“Dean, I know you feel as if somehow this is your fault, and by staying by his side you'll make up for it- Like, I get it. I really do. But you need to eat.” Sam argued. Dean didn't move. 

 

“This is not up for debate, Sammy. I'm staying here.” Dean looked over at Castiel. “I'll eat later. I'm just- I’m not ready to leave just yet.”

 

Sam sighed before nodding, “Okay, but just- please, don't wear yourself out. It's not gonna help Cas if you do that.” He gave Dean one last, sympathetic smile before walking to the door, “I'll be at the motel if you need me. Call if anything changes.” 

  
  


~~~

 

Eventually Dean drifted into a fitful sleep. There were broken wings, sad blue eyes and blood; so much blood.

 

He shot up in the chair he had fallen asleep in, looking around. Oh yeah... he was in the damned hospital. He fucking hated hospitals, bad shit always happened. He sighed as looked over at the sleeping figure next to him. 

 

Castiel was hurt bad, Dean realised that. Even as he stirred in his sleep, Cas whimpered in pain. Dean's heart clenched. This was his fault. It was he who had asked Cas to fall, back at the beginning. It was his face that Naomi had used to torture Cas. It was he who kicked Cas out when he needed him most, even after Cas did everything to get to him. It was he who prayed to Cas asking for help. He hadn't even thought about what state Cas had been in at the time, he just expected him to come- because he always did. 

 

Dean nearly growled at himself. How could he have taken Cas for granted like that!? His best friend felt like nothing more than a pawn in a game of chess. He placed his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. He had failed, failed to keep the man he loved safe. 

 

His thoughts were disturbed by his stomach complaining about the lack of food. The small Ikea bought clock on the wall said seven o’clock. Holy shit, he'd slept for five hours, plus the earlier eleven. He must have been dead tired. 

 

Dean stretched out properly. His joints popped in multiple places in his body, and he groaned as he stood. He really should get something to eat. He hadn't eaten for, like, a day.

 

That didn't happen much anymore. Yeah, he used to skip a few meals so Sammy could eat when they were kids, but now that he was an adult with a reliable way to acquire money (Okay, credit fraud and hustling pool aren't really steady pay, but details are details, and should stay details...) food was way easier to get.

 

He walked halfway towards the door into the hallway before pausing. He looked back over at Castiel. All the wires and the multiple IVs connected to Cas were kinda scary. He stared at the monitor showing the ex-angel’s heartbeat, while listening to the beep of each individual beat made. He nearly shit his pants when someone spoke behind him, “It's okay, y’know, leaving. I can look after him.” Dean turned around quickly, whipping out his gun to aim at the unfamiliar voice. 

 

“Whoa there cowboy, I'm not a monster,” they clarified, their hands above their head. Dean nodded and put the gun away. 

 

“Who are you, and what the duck do you know about monsters?” Dean asked in a harsh whisper. She closed the door before turning back to him. “My name is Lyris McLean, my brother and his wife are hunters. I was born with psychic abilities, so my mother taught me and my brother how to protect ourselves before she passed away.” She crossed her arms, a small smile played across her lips. Dean sized her up before relaxing; she wasn't a threat. 

 

“He loves you, y'know. That's all I get from him. He thinks you're a hero.” Dean looked back at his friend and sighed. “Yeah, that's what got us into this mess in the first place.” He watched Castiel’s chest rise and fall with every breath. He doesn’t blame Castiel, he blames himself more. Castiel didn’t get a choice, he didn’t just decide to fall in love with Dean. Dean still didn’t understand how anyone, especially Castiel, could love him.

 

“It’s not your fault.” Lyris spoke. Dean turned back to her, eyebrow raised, before he remembered that she was psychic. He clenched his jaw. 

 

“Well, who else’s fault is it!? If I hadn’t called him because I was too bored to research, he wouldn’t be on the brink of death!” Dean's voice cracked with emotion.

 

“You didn’t know this would happen.” Lyris argued, placing a hand on Dean’s tense shoulder. Dean averted his gaze, opening his mouth to protest, but Lyris cut him off by raising her hand in protest. “Did you plan for Castiel to be attacked?” She paused, but didn't give Dean a chance to speak, “Had you meant for him to get cut, beaten and broken when you asked him for help?” Dean glared at her, almost hurt from the accusation. 

 

“No, I’d never-” 

  
“Exactly, this isn’t your fault, Dean,” she declared. “Now, you go get some food, and some sleep if you can. I’ll look after him. He’ll be here when you come back.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've kinda figured out how imma' end this, but that's fine. I'll figure it out.
> 
> Also, a big thanks again to Passionatelysmashingeveryexpectation for beta-reading this for me <3
> 
> EDIT: Hey, its edited.As usual, not a lot of mistakes, I just polish the already bright work :)


	6. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Castiel wakes up, he doesn't expect anyone to be there; Why should they?

When Castiel woke up, the first thing he felt was pain. His entire body ached. His eyes were crusty as he attempted to open them; he blinked a few times before being able to see. He was laying in a semi-comfortable bed, and he was hooked up to multiple machines. He must be in a hospital. His first instinct was to rip out the wires and tubes, and find a way out. However, he felt as if he was safe; it was a weird feeling. He usually only felt safe around Dean.

 

Dean...

 

Where was he, was he okay? 

 

That’s when everything came back to him. He felt the shame rise in him. He was reminded of how the scene had ended... how was he alive? Why was he alive? Why did he always have to survive?! He never stays dead! He had failed Dean. He now knew how pathetic Castiel was; how much he had hurt the brothers. Why would they even bother to get him to a hospital? 

 

It didn’t matter. They would have left by now anyways. He was on his own again. 

 

He turned his head to the right, nuzzling into the pillow. He took a deep breath. He needed to start planning for what to do when the hospital decides he’s well enough to kick out. Where could he go? The Bunker was a definite no, Heaven also. He wracked his brain for places he could go. Where even was he? He must still be somewhere outside of Milwaukee, right? He couldn’t retreat to his long-abandoned dumpster. New Castle was over one thousand miles away. Would he stay here, working at another Gas n’ Sip? Sleeping on the hard floor in the cold stockroom? Maybe he could work a few jobs, get a small apartment somewhere in the city. It would take a lot of work, but he could manage.

 

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the door open. He turned to face the door to see who it was, he thought it might have been one of the nurses coming to see if he was awake. Imagine his surprise when he saw Dean standing in the doorway, his mouth agape. Why was Dean here? 

 

“Cas! You’re awake!" Excitement, relief and worry battled for dominance in his tone. He rushed over to Castiel’s bed before he could protest. “How are you feeling?” 

 

Castiel was confused, “D-Dean, what, what are you doing here?” He questioned, his brow furrowed. He sat up staighter in the hospital bed. 

 

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing here?'” Dean looked surprised and a little hurt. But, that’s probably just Castiel understanding it wrong. He always did. 

 

“You...you hate hospitals.” Castiel’s brain short circuited. 'You should have left me. I messed up again. I made another mistake. I didn’t expect you to be here because of me. All of those were things he wanted to say, but he didn’t. 

 

Dean laughed. “How did you- nevermind.” He shook his head, smiling. He looked... happy? Why was he happy? “Cas, of course I’m here. Why wouldn’t I be?” 'Because, you just shouldn’t. I’m a bad omen. You should stay as far away from me as possible.' However, Castiel stayed silent. 

 

Doubt began to creep onto Dean’s face. “Cas. Why wouldn’t I be?” Dean repeated the question firmly. When Castiel turned away from him, he got his answer. He didn’t think he was worthy. “Cas. Castiel. Look at me.” 

 

Castiel turned back to face him, tears in his eyes. “Now you should see me as all the others do! A lovesick puppy that follows you around no matter what, a failure! A shell of a man who whored himself out to repulsing men just to be able to eat! Castiel, A mistake in the eyes of everything holy!” He cried out in anguish, the hurt and the anger welling up inside him. He laid back down on the pillow beneath his head. 

 

Dean looked as if Castiel had just slapped him across the face. He knew about the self-loathing was there- He wouldn’t really be a Winchester without it- But this, this wasn’t okay. “C-Cas. I- you’re not-” He was at a loss for words. 

 

“Oh, don’t lie to me Dean. You saw it all, didn’t you! All that I’ve done. Each step towards the disgrace I am today!” His voice was still scratchy from the sudden use. He looked down at his hands with disgust. “Just, leave me. I’m no use to you now. The last of my stolen Grace is in a backroad outside of Janesville.” He finished, he words barely above a whisper.

 

Now Dean was angry. He was angry at the goddess for putting them in this position. He was angry at Castiel, for thinking so lowly of himself- he was no role model, but Castiel should be and is better than him. He was also angry at himself for not seeing or noticing how much pain Castiel was going through. He was supposed to protect his family. 

 

“Now, listen here.” Dean said menacingly. Castiel groaned and rolled his eyes. “Castiel, listen to me.” The hunter fumed. Castiel looked up at him reluctantly, wearing a bitchface that rivaled Sam’s. “You are not a failure, a disgrace, a mistake or any of those things you said. So, yeah you screwed up a few times. We all do! Those things you did- you were trying to survive. I’m not saying I agree with your methods, but- I’m just saying. Just because you made a few mistakes- I, we wouldn't just abandon you!” 

 

  “That didn't stop you last time!” 

 

Silence laid over them.

 

“You know why I had to do it.” Dean said, his voice wavering.

 

“That doesn't change how much it hurt. You didn't even tell me why! Did I question you? No! I never question you. I knew there were empty rooms in the bunker and-” Castiel choked out. He took a deep breath looking at Dean.

 

“Cas-” 

 

“Get out.” Castiel said emotionlessly. When Dean didn't move he turned to him; fury behind his eyes.

  
“I said, GET OUT!” he roared, pointing towards the door, his face pulled up into a scowl. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, oh well.  
> Ah, Remember the time when this was gonna be like, four chapters... Well... that kinda went out the window


	7. Misunderstandings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel learns what had happened while he was unconscious.

 

Dean nearly fell over as he tried to scramble out of the room. Castiel was angry. Dean knew not to mess with Cas when he was angry. Even though he was a compromised ex-angel, he could probably still rip him apart.

 

He ran out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. In the hallway, people stared at him. They must've heard the shouting from inside the room. Dean expertly ignored them as he breathed in and out. He was trying to figure out what had just happened.

 

Before he could think about it too much, someone placed a hand on his arm. Dean looked up to see Lyris. Her face bore a look of understanding and remorse. 

 

“That much emotional devastation will take time to heal, as well as his body.” She spoke softly. 

 

Dean put his head in his hands and leaned back onto the door to the hospital room Castiel had been moved to a couple of weeks ago. He knew Castiel would react badly to what the deity did, but not like this. He didn’t know what he expected; but the pure rage that came after the hurt was something that rivaled Dean’s. 

 

“What should I do?” He asked, looking back up at Lyris. 

 

“I think you should give him some space. I’ll talk to him in a little bit; see what I can do.” She patted his back as he stalked down the hallway, making his way to the exit. He should go tell Sam that Cas was awake. Dean wasn’t sure if Castiel would react the same way he did when Dean came, when Sam visits. Sam and Cas had a different relationship then he and Cas. 

 

These past few weeks hadn’t been easy for the brothers. They both felt horrible for what had happened to Castiel and the guilt made it hard to sleep. Dean wasn’t even sure if that would change now that he awake. 

 

They had gone back to the warehouse a couple of day after they had checked Castiel into the hospital, and they had tried to clean it up a bit; pick up the pieces of drywall that had scattered all over the place when Sam drove through it. It had been extremely hard for them when they had to clean up the blood and the  _ skin _ that had been left on the floor from Castiel’s wounds. Dean’s hands had shook as he peeled the dead pieces of his friend from the ground. The experience did not aid to the situation they were in; made it worse even. When they had finished- burned what needed burning, cleaned what needed cleaning, they drove back to the motel. The trip had been silent. Dean hadn’t even put a cassette in the player; he didn’t exactly have a mix for: We just scraped our friends blood and guts from the floor.

 

As soon as they had gotten back to the motel they got dressed and went to bed, it wasn’t like they had anywhere they had to be that morning. 

 

~~~

  
  


Castiel’s lip wobbled as he tried his best not to cry as he saw Dean lean up against the door and put his head in his hands. He laughed dejectedly at how soft he really had become, how emotional. There was a time where he hadn’t been constantly haunted by these human emotions. That had changed when he’d seen Dean’s soul in hell. As cheesy as that sounds, it was true. As he fought fruitlessly trying to get to the soul keep, where he had been told the righteous man reside, he caught a glimpse of Dean’s soul. That was exactly when he  _ knew _ how much he needed to get to him- Do whatever it took to get the beautiful man out of hell.

 

He had wanted nothing more than to let Dean then live out his life in peace as he saw him interacting with his family with such  _ care _ and _devotion_. He hated knowing how much pain and responsibility was about to be placed on his shoulders. He fought a vicious battle inside his mind; his logical side telling him that it was ridiculous to go against all of heaven for a single human, a human that should seem like an insignificant blip is Castiel’s life.

 

But somehow, his unexplored emotional side won, he fell. Well, he really didn't. They said he fell, the angels, but they were just being kind; he didn’t fall, he dove.

 

He leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling; he couldn’t help a tear that streamed down his cheek. He shouldn’t have taken his anger out on Dean. Who knows if he’d come back  _ now _ . He had just been so angry, not at Dean, but at himself, for letting all of this happen. He should have fought harder, done more to stop this happening. But he was just a weak human now. He had been weak already, now he was both weak _and_ human. 

 

He thought of simpler times. He thought about the times when there were no apocalypses around the corners, when they’d sit together at The Bunker or in a cheap motel room, and just enjoy each others’ presence. How Sam and Dean would make jokes together and how Dean's eyes would crinkle as he laughed at something Sam had said or when he threw his head back and cried from laughter.

Their relationship was different now. He was sure that Dean was only here because he felt some sort pity for him, he would leave soon enough. But, that didn't stop Castiel from imagining that he was here because he loved him and cared about him.     

 

His thoughts were interrupted as someone opened the door. A small part of him hoped that it was Dean, but he tried not to feel disappointed as a nurse walked in. 

 

The woman smiled at him solemnly as she made her way over to him.

 

“How are we doing today? I’m nurse Lyris McLane” she asked, picking up the clipboard next to the bed. 

 

Castiel mumbled a small ‘I’m fine’ placing his hands on his stomach, elbows laying either side of his body. He looked down at them. These hands had caused so much pain and misery. He felt almost sick at the thought of it.

 

“I heard your argument earlier.” She commented. Castiel’s head shot up, his cheeks turning a dark shade of red.

 

“I’m- I’m sorry you had to hear that…” he apologised, wetting his lips. “Did you hear  _ everything _ ?” 

 

She smiled at him, “Yes, but, it’s okay. Your secret is safe with me,” She chuckled as Castiel’s eyes widened. 

 

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He denied lamely. She smiled brighter in response. Her happy expression seemed to make the dingy hospital room seem much nicer. Castiel liked her. 

 

“Sure Angel-Cakes.” She said as she went over everything on the sheet on the clipboard. She worked in silence, the only sound was the heart monitor measuring Castiel’s heart. 

 

“How did you know?” Castiel broke the silence, looking up at Lyris. 

 

“I’m what you would call a psychic. I knew it from the moment you were wheeled into this place. I’d never seen an angel before but I knew you were one immediately.” said Lyris, pride in her voice. 

 

Castiel frowned, “I’m no angel. Not anymore.” He whispered sadly. She placed her hand under his chin and lifted it so she could look Castiel in the eye. 

 

“Once an angel, always an angel. Grace or no.” She declare before she let him go and kept on reading. The silence returned. Castiel felt kind of embarrassed, she probably knew everything that had happened. How could she be this kind- to Castiel of all people? 

“You’re not a bad person Castiel.” Lyris stated. Castiel looked up. 

 

“You don’t know that. You don’t understand how much bad I’ve done. How much misery I’ve brought upon this world and the ones in it. To Sam and Dean. To my brothers and sisters in heaven.” Castiel croaked. 

 

“Castiel, all that bad had good intentions. You were doing your best. You didn’t know how it would go, you can’t see the future.” She wisecracked, trying to lighten the mood. When Castiel gave no response, she sighed. She put down the clipboard.

 

“Cas, there is nothing you can do about that shit that has already happened. Don’t dwell on the past. You should rather look forward to the future.” He looked up at her, eyebrow raised.

 

“What future, when I am let out of this hospital I will have no shelter, no food and no will to live. Why should I possibly look forward to that?” He asked, confused.

 

Lyris’ smile fell as she realized how Castiel saw the matter, “Castiel. Dean, he has been here everyday, he's visit _everyday_ since you were brought in. He’s sit here in that chair over there, he’d sit for hours waiting, desperately praying for you to wake up; for you to get better. He wanted to take you home, to take care of you while you healed. I could hear him when I walked past, he would be begging god to ‘Bring this fuckin’ idiot back,’. That's what he would tell him, that he’d taken everything from him. He would plead for him not to take you too.” She confessed. 

 

Castiel had tears streaming down his face, his eyes searching her face, trying to decide whether she was telling the truth or not. 

 

“You're- You have to be lying. Dean, he- he wouldn't. He wouldn't pray for my health. He shouldn't want to be  _ near _ me, I’m dangerous. I’ll just hurt him again.” He finish, looking away sadly.

 

“Castiel, I know, what happened to you was devastating and that you think Dean thinks of you differently, he does think of you differently, but not in the way you think.” She said before she finished and walked out, throwing a “Call is ya’ need anything.” after her. 

 

Castiel furrowed his brow. She couldn’t possibly be implying….

 

No. That couldn't be it. Dean didn't,  _ love him _ ? No, he made it perfectly clear that he wasn't. He was Dean Winchester, straight and a renowned ladies-man. even if he wasn't, why would he want Castiel?

 

He looked at the plastic chair at the side of the bed.

 

_ He'd sit in here in that chair over there, he'd sit for hours waiting _

 

Did Dean really pray for him? Dean wasn't much for praying. He'd only do so if he was desperate. Castiel of all knew that. Why- 

 

Castiel was lost. Dean made him so confused, he says one thing but does another. No matter how hard he tries, Castiel just doesn't understand.

 

He wanted to figure this out, but he was so  _ tired _ . He realised then how much damage had been done to his vessel- no his body. He had felt the pain but it was numbed by the drugs coursing through him. He was healing. Slowly, but healing nonetheless. 

 

He didn't really know what to do with himself. He couldn't go anywhere, he had to stay in the bed. The only thing he could really do at the moment was sleep. So that's what he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're really close to the end of this fic. This has taken way longer to upload that I expected; apparently I have to go /outside/ every now and then. But! i have finished writing it- I think. May post the last ones this week.


	8. Recognized worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel have a final conference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Syke! (okay that was lame, I am aware) Haha! I fooled you yet again! Here's another chapter.
> 
> BN: Hey everybody! Sorry for multi day delay in editing, but I had multiple exams to study for. I'm back now, hope everybody's enjoying the fic.

Castiel woke up the next morning feeling worse that he'd felt going to sleep. He groaned as he sat up, stretching any way he could without causing pain. As he looked around the room he had been given, he saw that there was a tray placed on a small table with wheels he could pull closer; was this his breakfast? The tray didn't have much on it! On the tray was a small black plastic plate with two strips of bacon, and what he thinks are supposed to be scrambled eggs. There was also a paper cup filled with black coffee. He picked up the cup of steaming coffee and carefully took a sip. He recoiled back as he burnt his lips, and glared at the coffee before putting it down.

 

“Careful there, you don't want to have that burnt tongue feeling for the rest of the day. Castiel looked up to see Dean standing in the doorway; his smile was unsure, but his relief was apparent. “Dean! I'm so sorry, I yelled at you and I shouldn't have. I just so angry; not at you, of course... I shouldn't have taken it out on you, I'm sorry. I would understand if you don't want to be here anymore.” Castiel knew he should probably stop ranting, but he couldn't. "Whoa, whoa! Slow down, what are you saying?” Dean walked towards him, his hands reaching outwards as if to calm him down. "What are you even doing here?" Castiel was practically choking on his words. It wasn’t even a question anymore; why was Dean still here? He should be back at the bunker, sitting in the library and looking for new cases with Sam; or in the kitchen cooking, moving his hips to a melody and singing the lyrics to the song playing on the radio. He could be out in the world, saving innocent lives... he could be anywhere but here, far away from Castiel and his many mistakes. Dean's look was confused, his eyebrows furrowing and his lips pursed. His eyes were flicking back and forth from Castiel’s and the ex-angel’s hands, that were white-knuckled from gripping the small table over his lap tight.

 

“Cas, stop! Just stop this, please…” Dean was begging, his tone was wavering from sad to desperate. He walked over to the hospital bed his best friend had been confined to for weeks.“Castiel. You say that you’re nothing, a mistake, and that you should be dead. That, that’s not true. I don’t think-” Dean was quickly interrupted by the desperate angel. 

 

“Is it true?” The sad blue gaze pierced him, reminiscent of when they first became friends; the only difference was the distinct presence of fear. “Is what true?” Dean asked, not quite sure what Castiel was talking about.

 

“Lyris told me everything.” Castiel said softly. “How you were here everyday, that you prayed for me.” Cas sounded confused, like it wasn’t even a possibility. 

 

“Cas…” Dean began, taking a deep breath. “You and Sam are the only family I have left. You two are what I care most for in the world! I know I’ve been terrible at showing it, but you matter so much to me, and to Sam... to everything. The world wouldn’t be worth living in without you.” Dean could feel the tears about to well up in his eyes. “I’ve always taken you for granted, because you always came back. No matter what, you’d be there. But seeing you broken and bloody on the floor of that warehouse, I thought I’d lost you forever. I didn’t- I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you had died thinking we... that I didn’t care.” His voice cracked as the lump in his throat grew. Castiel looked hesitant to believe what he was hearing. He opened his mouth to deny what Dean was confessing, but Dean quickly cut him off.

 

“Please, don’t. Don’t deny what I’m saying. You deserve as much love and affection as anyone else, if not more. Everything you do is to help someone else; even in your darkest moments, you were doing your best to help people around you. You have been hurt by everyone you know, even me and Sam, but you still blame yourself. Why do you refuse to believe that everything that has happened to you was your fault? Why do you deny any kind of affection or worth?!” Dean's eyes never left Castiel’s. "I try to help you, God knows I’ve tried; every time, I end up hurting you, disappointing you, and even almost killing you!” Cas responded frantically with what he believed to be the painful truth. 

 

“Cas, I understand what happened at the crypt now, and I’ve realized how wrong it was to be mad at you. What Naomi did to you...That was fucked up. I’d want to storm heaven to kill the bitch if she wasn’t already dead. The point is, I don’t blame you for that and you shouldn’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault.” Castiel was speechless, “Dean, I-” his head fell into his hands, his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No, no, don’t be sorry. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.” Dean walked all the way up to the bed, where he sat down on the edge; he took Castiel’s hands. “If anything, it should be me who's sorry!” A voice in the back of Dean’s head which sounded (not surprisingly) like John Winchester, was whispering how gay this was. Dean told that voice to fuck off. Castiel needed help, Dean didn’t care how much touchy-feely crap was involved; he was gonna help his angel. “Castiel. You are single handedly the bravest, most loyal, and kind hearted person I’ve ever met. You are the most amazing friend I could ever have. No one has come even close to being what you are to me.” 

 

“Dean, you- Do you mean that? You’re just not saying this as some kind of cruel joke before you leave me?” Dean’s heart deflated as he processed Castiel’s question. “No! No, I’d never do that. I mean what I said; every bit of it.”

 

The ex-angel’s mouth hung open in surprise, the hope in his eyes hitting a nerve in Dean; it made him shoot forward, and wrap his arms around Castiel as well as he could without hurting him. Castiel’s breath hitched before he returned the hug. “I’m so sorry for making you feel this way. I mean it, Cas, I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Just tell me.” Dean pulled out of the hug after a few minutes of silence. Castiel’s face pulled up into a small smile. “You already have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is almost as fucking cheesy as my Christmas story, Jesus-Pun intended.


	9. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters finally go home.

**Epilogue**

 

Castiel was allowed home a few weeks later, which was a huge relief for Dean. Lyris helped sign them out, Castiel being signed out with the last name "Winchester." She sent them away with a list of meds and a knowing smile.

 

Dean's and Castiel’s relationship wasn't magically fixed after they talked. It took a lot of work to get him out of the vicious cycle of self loathing, but Sam and Dean did everything in their power to remind him that was enough. He kept trying to prove his worth to them- even as he lay in the hospital bed. It took a lot of work to make his understand that he didn’t need to prove himself, ever again. 

 

When they got to the bunker, Castiel was shocked and gratified to find that Dean had prepared a little nest of blankets and pillows in his bed. He had even gotten him a cup of warmed milk. Castiel asked him if he was sure about this; he didn't want to make Dean uncomfortable. 

 

Dean didn’t answer, at least not verbally. His grass green eyes showed his confirmation. Dean smiled at him, before shooting forward, catching his lips. Castiel froze in shock... Dean Winchester was kissing him! Castiel melted into the kiss, wrapping his still slightly injured arms around Dean's neck. 

 

Dean reluctantly pulled away, placing his forehead against Castiel’s. They were both breathless, small smiles on both their faces.

 

“Yeah. I'm sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final (and very short) chapter! Whooooooo! Go me, I actually finished a fic! This story went from angsty drama to cheesy romance-novel. That's okay, whatever.
> 
> I actually enjoyed writing this so much and the support has been amazing! Thank you so, so much for reading this story and I hope you have a lovely day (Seeing a dog or a cat is recommended.)
> 
> BN: Hey, guys... hope you enjoyed the ride, cheesy romance novel ending or no. We all need some cheesy love at the end of angst, the fans need the comfort :) Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I've never done anything with chapters before, so that'll be fun to figure out! Anywho, I hope you enjoyed reading!!!


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